


It's always darkest before the light

by Cherlaine



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherlaine/pseuds/Cherlaine
Summary: General Monroe captures Danny and Charlie. He already has their mother, Rachel. Things take a different turn when Charlie manages to pique Monroe's interest and she talks herself into a deal she is too stubborn to get out of. How is she able to handle the seemingly power crazed General? What are the consequences? And how will Charlie cope with the things she has to do?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Angst, and something more, might not be for the sensitive people. I wanted to describe a bit of the darker side of Monroe.   
> My first attempt of a longer story from the times I was very creative. On the works of trying to get a new chapter to this. Has been before on Ff since 2016. Real life is throwing me constantly some really hard things to cope with, so that's why I lost the train of my thoughts on this one. Trying to get it back on.

 

“Choose me!”, Charlie protested, getting up from the couch and trying to protect her brother Danny from Strausser. His gun was pointing at them.

Monroe was silent, just watching the scene unfolding in front of him. His mouth slightly open in awe, like he had forgot what to say.

Rachel cried like a wounded animal when she realized the life of her children were in danger.

“Stop it! I will finish your damn amplifier!”, Rachel shouted.

 

Charlie didn't remember a lot of it when she asked Monroe to have a word when he was leaving.

“You can say what you want here.”, Monroe said.

“No. They don't need to know.”, Charlie said.

“Don't.”, Rachel protested and Danny just looked at her with sad eyes, knowing he was unable to fight their opponent.

“Take Rachel and Danny to their cell.”, Monroe told his men.

Strausser insisted on staying with a gleam in his eyes. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Monroe looked at him, a stern warning in his voice. “Don't you have things to do?”

Strausser shot a dirty look at them and then he left.

 

“What is it?”, Monroe asked, his gaze on her.

Charlie looked at him. “I'll do anything if you let my family go.”

Monroe chuckled a bit. “I'm sorry but I don't need a young girl. You don't have anything I want.”

“What if I offer my company on the dinner table?”

This time Monroe laughed. His genuine smile lit his usually grim and cold features. He would have been good looking if he wouldn't have been a psychopath killer, Charlie thought quickly.

“You are something different, Charlotte, that much I've gotta say.”, Monroe said, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared.

Charlie looked at him, still feeling the adrenaline. She knew she was loosing this game.

“But I have to tell you no.”, he said.

“I'll do anything.”, she said, this time desperation in her voice.

“I'm not interested.”, Monroe said and called his soldiers to take her in.

 

Charlie was left alone to her cell. She was relieved. She just couldn't take her mother now. Also taking care of Danny who was practically an adult, was sometimes a tiring job. It was Rachel's time to take care of him. She sat on the bunk and closed her eyes. Trying to rest and calm down.

 

* * *

 

Monroe walked into the hallway of his manor. He saw that the double doors to his office were open.

“Excuse me, General. I took the liberty of waiting for you at your office.”, Neville said.

“And why is that?”, Monroe asked, cold blue flashing in his eyes, his mouth a thin line.

“I got some good news you must hear straight away.”, the dark skinned man said, almost smiling.

Monroe walked to the side table and poured himself a shot of whiskey. “Tell me.”

“We searched the several addresses Mrs. Matheson gave us. All the others were abandoned but one. There was a certain doctor, Bradley Jaffe.”

Monroe felt a new kind of excitement, feeling the hope of everything turning into right direction. It was washing his anger away. His eyes went dreamy. He would finally get his amplifier, in a way or another. That was the most important thing to him. To get electricity, at least partially, was equal to get more power in this God forgotten world.

“Is he willing to help us?”

“We had to make him… a bit more susceptible for that.”

“Good. Let's have him take a look at the Rachel's machine. I want to see her face when he tells her it's not an amplifier.”

“General… I have a hunch it's not gonna be that easy.”

Monroe knew that Neville was usually right with his unnaturally accurate instincts. He listened to him carefully.

 

* * *

 

After taking care of the matters and deciding not to tell Rachel about them (and putting her away from her machine before it was completed), he was going back for his office. There was complete silence, greeting him. The night had fallen. The maid had lit candles for him, in case he worked late hours. He looked at his glass. He didn't want to drink now. He enjoyed the feeling of everything falling into it's place. He remembered how brave Charlie Matheson had been. It piqued his interest.

 

It was late, but being a General in your own Republic had it's pros. Monroe walked inside the penitentiary. His stride was strong and confident and he knew where he was going.

He stopped at Charlie Matheson's cell. The guard opened the door.

Charlie rose from her bunk. She blinked her eyes for the light torch.

“Sorry to wake you., Charlotte.”, Monroe said.

“What is it?”, she asked, looking a bit worried.

“I changed my mind. I think I could consider your offer.”

“My resolve hasn't changed.”, Charlie said, looking at straight into his eyes.

 

Monroe gazed at her. His ice blue eyes scanning her carefully. “Do you understand what you are saying?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him. Challenging him. That was all there was left to do. She wasn't going to give up now. Monroe wouldn't have got this far from his cozy bed in the middle of the night if he wasn't at least considering her offer. Only thing that remained a mystery to her, was the reason he changed his mind.

 

“Am I getting this straight, you would sleep with me to get your family out?”

“If I have to.”, Charlie said, standing as tall as she could.

Monroe snorted. “I guess we'll have that dinner then.”

Charlie just stood there. He wasn't sure but she seemed to breath easier.

“Good night, Charlotte.”

She only nodded to him, then she was locked in her cell again.

 

* * *

 

Charlie woke up to some noise. She had fallen asleep again. Knowing that her plan had worked. She realized that she had to be relieved to fall asleep so well. Then someone came to her door. A militia man came and opened the door.

“It's time.”, he said.

“Time for what?”, Charlie asked, being detained and pulled out of the dark room.

“To attend dinner with General Monroe.”

Charlie opened her mouth and closed it. This was it.

 

She was guided to a room to get herself cleaned and if she wanted, to change clothes. She noticed fresh water in a big white bowl, ornated with small flowers. The same pattern in an old water jug. There was a wash cloth and a pristine soap, in a handmade case, a small bow on it.

She took her dirty tank top off and tried to wash the sweat and dirt away from her skin with the cloth. She was standing in front of the mirror wearing her bra and jeans. The chain on her waist slightly jingling when she wiped a stain furiously. She chose a white shirt with a round neck for herself, suddenly feeling the need to cover herself.

 

She noticed something on the floor. It was a thin piece of steel, about quarter of an inch wide and two inches long. Sharp on the other end. She remembered seeing such a thing as a child. Probably used for cleaning nails or something. She put it in her pocket.

 

When she was ready, she was guided to a private dining room. Monroe was already there. Instead his black uniform, he had a white dress shirt and black pants. The candles lit on the table, shining soft yellow light, a vase of white lilies in the middle.

 

“Hello Charlotte.”, his voice sounding soft.

“Hi.”

She was going for the chair but Monroe got up and pulled it for her. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.”

 

She sat down, trying to have something to do with her hands. She found the napkin, opened it and put it on her lap.

“You are well raised.”, Monroe commented.

“Well, whaddya know.”

The waiter brought the food and served it to them.

“Thank you.”, Charlie said.

“That's all for now.”, Monroe said and told her to leave with a gesture.

Charlie hadn't seen food for what seemed like ages ago. She took a bite of the meat.

“So, what was your life like back in the Sylvania Estates?”, Monroe asked her.

“The Militia came for my father but they killed him and took Danny instead.”, Charlie said, gazing him blatantly.

“I meant before.”, Monroe said, dissatisfied for her answer.

“Don't like what you hear?”, Charlie challenged.

Monroe didn't answer. He just looked at her and put a piece of potato in his mouth.

“I'm not here to pretend that you're just a nice guy from the next door. I'm here to negotiate for the release of my family. Or what's left of it anyway. So don't give me that crap.”

She watched something dark moving over his face and flash of anger in those deep blue eyes. Which now seemed almost black for the dim lights of the candles.

“I know what you really are. Inside you're just cold emotionless psychopath. Who loves to see other suffer and crawl in the dirt for him. You're just a paranoid megalomaniac.”

A dangerous silence fell.

“No one talks to me like that.”, Monroe said.

It was in an amazing speed how he rose from his seat and went after her. Charlie was lucky to even get up, but she was ready to defend herself. She pulled the steak knife at his throat, but Monroe grabbed her hand before she had the time to hurt him. Stopping just in front of her.

She watched his eyes seethe rage not far from hers. If Monroe had squeezed her hand any harder, she wondered if the bones in her arm start to crackle like dry twigs under the pressure.

“Well, maybe Miles. But not you.”, he said, warning in his voice.

 

Charlie felt the adrenaline in her veins, making her ready for anything. She trembled slightly.

“Fuck you.”, she whispered, looking him straight in the eye, knowing that he heard every word.

She watched the myriad of feelings change rapidly over his features. First amazement, then anger, then something else. It was like he had trouble deciding what to do with her.

She wondered if he was going to kill her, when he suddenly broke into laughter. She was so ready to fight that she winced, scared of the sudden sound.

“You really are something else.”, he said, still smiling.

Charlie breathed in.

“Just like your mother.”, he said softly.

Monroe let her go. Charlie rubbed her hand. They sat down.

 

“If you are still willing to do anything for your family, I'll have that arranged. If not, I will not hold it against you. You are very young and you don't know what you are doing. I will provide you your own bedroom down the hall where mine is, for the time being. If you are interested, you can always come to see me. I'm not forcing you. It's completely your decision. I have women who actually are interested of spending time with me. I don't need you.”, Monroe said.

“I'm sure they line up just for you.”, Charlie said, unfriendly smile on her face.

“You strangely remind me of Miles too.”, he said.

 

* * *

 

One evening Charlie was waiting for their meals with Monroe. The waitress was a young woman. Her brown hair tied, her dress shirt formal white, with black skirt. She put the dishes to the table. But when lifting the saucepan, she somehow managed to drop some. A few droplets landed on Monroe's clothes. She put the pan away and just stood there, nervously, her head down. Her gaze pointing down to her shoes.

“I apologize, General Monroe.”, she said.

 

Charlie watched the situation unfold. She couldn't believe her eyes when Monroe got up and took a horse whip from the side table. Her fingers tightened around her fork. Her thoughts going for a piece of metal inside her clothes. She had put it under her bra if things would turn south.

 

Her muscles tightened and she was ready if Monroe would start to punish the waitress. She watched him hit her. The first hit was not very hard but the waitress was so scared that she fell on the floor, in a sobbing heap. Charlie felt anger fill her veins and she jumped.

 

Either Monroe didn't know what was coming at him or his attention was completely on the poor waitress below him, that he didn't even look at her direction.

Charlie jumped on him from behind, her arm around his neck. She placed a swift kick to his knee from behind, making him fall into a weird position, almost as he was going to propose the poor waitress or something.

She pushed the fork, so hard that the sharp spikes pressed a bit through the skin the of his neck, causing small drops of blood to rise.

“If you hit her again, I will stick this through your artery.”

“Charlie… What are you doing?”

“I'm speaking the only language you know. Violence.”

“What do you know...”

“She should not be punished for a mistake. Let her go.”

 

Monroe told the waitress to leave. Charlie pulled the fork out from his skin. She didn't let him go. She was distracted when she felt him suddenly lean against her, feeling his shoulders pressing against her chest, his head heavy under her grip.

In other circumstances, she would have noticed how warm he was, his alluring scent. The tight dark curls on his head, which continued down to the nape of his neck. This wasn't the time for that.

She guided his weight past her, not towards her and tried to get away from him. He didn't let her. She sat down, not because she wanted to but because two strong hands pulled her back, from the waist of her jeans.

She gazed Monroe, breathing heavily. He was lying on his back now. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had just challenged him. And what was worse, at the presence of his servant. She guessed he wasn't too happy for that.

“I have never met anyone like you.”, he finally said.

His face turned into knowing smile. Charlie tried to get up again.

“Wait...”

“Are you fucking serious?”, Charlie said, trying to decipher the look on his face.

“I want to know. Did that do to you what it did to me?”

“You really can't be turned on by someone trying to kill you. That's sick.”, she said and she mustered all her strength to get up. He didn't stop her this time.

“The answer is no.”, Charlie said, angry again. She stood over him, looking down.

 

Monroe got up, easily. He took a cloth and wiped the wounds on his neck.

“I wasn't going to hurt her. Much. I wanted to see your reaction.”

“What?”, Charlie said, being now even more disgusted.

“You didn't disappoint me.”

“Are you insane? This is your idea of some sort dark of courtship?”

 

Monroe looked now excited. Charlie wrapped her arms around herself.

“I'm done with your sick games.”, she said and sat by the table.

 

They ate their meals without further disturbance. Charlie didn't want to speak to him. She could barely be around him now. Knowing what he was capable of and how far he had gone from the guy who Miles knew when he was young.

Actually, she had lost her appetite but she ate because the best food she got, was when she was having a dinner with Monroe. She ate because she needed all the strength she could have. For what was coming.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

The days melted into one another. Monroe shared a dinner with Charlie every evening. At first she had been feisty. But as the days went by, she had started to cool down.

The more they spent time together, the more Monroe was impressed by her. She always said what was on her mind and she wasn't afraid of saying it. It was refreshing. She was different than anyone else he had met. Although young but full of Matheson traits.

 

Monroe wondered why he even bothered to try and have a conversation with her. How come she had this influence on him, that he tried to be civil with her. With anyone else he would have not been so patient.

 

“Why don't I tell you something about myself and then you tell me something about yourself?”, Monroe asked.

“Tell me about you and Miles.”, she said.

He gazed at her. Wondering why she wanted to know about that.

“We were best friends. For a long time.”

He wrapped his fingers around the wine glass. He gazed at the dark, red liquid in it.

“Not anymore?”

“No. Now, tell me about you. What was your life like?”, he asked, not wanting to talk about that subject.

He took a sip of his drink.

“Peaceful.”, she said, looking him straight in the eye.

Challenging him.

“That's good.”, he said softly, knowing what she was trying to do. He didn't take the bait.

“Luckily Ben had Maggie because Mom never came back.”, she said, her eyes full of blame.

“You don't understand. Things were… complicated.”, Monroe said.

“Tell me.”

“Miles left...”

“It was a revenge?”

Monroe looked at his glass. “No. Tell me what was your life like.”

“If you want to know about it so bad, it wasn't fun when someone took your mother.”

“She came by herself because Miles was here!”, he yelled, frustrated with all the accusations.

 

Charlie was suddenly quiet, her eyes wide.

“I'm sorry. You must have thought that Rachel and Ben were happy together.”

She didn't talk to him after that. Monroe drank his wine and left, without saying another word.

 

Monroe didn't know why he felt like crap after that. Maybe it was the look on Charlie's face he had seen just before he left. She appeared to be shocked by the new information.

 

* * *

 

Charlie didn't show any emotion when Monroe entered the dining room the next day.

“Evening, Charlotte.”, he finally said, his voice hoarse.

She seemed to wake up from deep of her thoughts. “Evening, Monroe.”

“How are you?”

“Why do you ask? You don't care.”, Charlie said.

“I know you were upset for what I said last night.”

Charlie just stared at him.

“It wasn't my intention.”, he said, gazing her.

 

Monroe wondered in his mind what the hell she was doing to him. He never apologized for his behavior. Not to anyone.

 

He took a bottle and opened it. This time it was champagne, as he had ordered. He poured some for them to the tall but thin glasses. Shortly their dishes arrived.

 

“Tell me about Maggie.”, Monroe said, breaking the silence.

Charlie looked somewhere, like she was trying to remember.

 

“She was nice. We had all kinds of plants all over the place. Herbs, vegetables. Anything that grew. She died, you know.”

“Sorry about that.”

She looked like she was dreaming, her eyes looking into distance.

“She made medicine… for Danny, my brother. He used to hate how it tasted but it helped him to breathe.”

“So she was a healer?”

“Yeah.”

“You liked to live there?”

“The Sylvania Estates? Of course. Things were good at there. People working together. Living peacefully in harmony. Children running around, playing.”

“Sounds happy.”

“It was.”, Charlie said, her voice choking a bit.

 

The steel started to form in her eyes again. Monroe knew why it was there.

“I asked your father to be found. Not to be killed. I didn't know that Neville would shoot half of the village.”, he said.

 

Charlie took her glass from him and tasted it. He took his and took a sip. They started to eat, quietly.

“I'm happy you had a decent childhood.”, he said finally.

Charlie gave him a look.

 

* * *

 

Danny was sharing a cell with Rachel. They were always taken down the corridor when it was time to eat.

The door opened into a dining room and left there alone. The table was set for two. There was red wine and steak, some fried root vegetables and potatoes. They sat down and Rachel started immediately eat and drink.

Danny just watched her and wondered how Rachel could even eat.

“We are in a cage. And you're acting like nothing is wrong.”, he said, tilting his head.

“We have beds. We have food. Things could be worse.”, Rachel said, taking another sip of the wine. And another piece of food went to her mouth.

“We don't even know where Charlie is. And what Monroe is doing to her.”

Danny watched her mother's cold eyes while she was chewing.

“I'm sure she's fine.”, Rachel said finally.

“How can you be so sure? We have to get out of here.”

“Shh, they might hear you.”

“What we are going to do?”, Danny whispered.

“We have to wait. If something bad happens, we will hear about it. Be patient. No news means good news.”, Rachel said.

Danny tasted a piece of his steak reluctantly.

 

* * *

 

Monroe became to realize that when he didn't have urgent matters to take care of, he often thought about her. Standing behind his desk, checking some paper work. His mind started to drift away.

He started to wait for the evenings, the dinners they shared. The discussions they had.

 

* * *

 

 

_Some time later_

 

Charlie did have a new room. It was a luxurious big bedroom, size of a small apartment. She wasn't visibly detained but the hallway was heavily guarded. The other way went past Monroe's bedroom, the doors at the both ends were closed. One door led to her bathroom.

 

One morning she woke up early and couldn't sleep. It was still dark outside. These last days she had come to know a different part of Monroe. A glimpse of what he probably used to be, before the blackout. In another conditions, she might have liked him or even have an interest towards him.

 

He was a damn good looking man. Charming, whenever he wanted to be. Around her he was usually cordial. She could imagine him being young, how the women must have looked at him at the college where he studied. Or on free time, drinking beer with Miles.

 

Maybe, if they had met in different circumstances, they would have been interested in each other. If he hadn't been so crazy and the commanding General of the Militia. And she so young and his captive.

She didn't want to, but part of her felt drawn to him. Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome. Or the fact that he had power and wealth. Added the fact that he was very confident.

 

She had seen a glimpses of real him, behind all that facade he was pulling. It made her see him in a different light. Maybe he was a human after all, with all of his own demons from the past and for whatever had happened to him. He didn't like to talk about himself. She guessed he was avoiding that.

 

She decided to visit him. She had only her night dress on. The thin shoulder straps revealed her skin and a part of her chest, the fabric covering her breasts. For the coolness of the manor she put a morning gown on it. At first she headed out from her room, to the corridor.. It was odd, the guards greeting her.

 

“Morning, Miss Matheson.”

“Morning guys.”

She passed them by, going for the bathroom. She took care of herself and drank some water, after washing her hands and her face.

 

Charlie walked slower. She didn't know what to expect. She knocked on Monroe's door. No one answered. She tried the door knob. It was unlocked, so she opened the door quietly. Everything started to feel too real at that point. She held her breath, trying to listen the sounds inside the room.

 

It was dark and all she could hear, was someone's steady breathing. She knew that Monroe was probably a womanizer. He seemed like that kind of a man. Not caring about anything or anyone.

If there was a woman with him, she didn't know. It would be awkward to find someone there with him.

 

She went in anyway and closed the door. Doing it slowly, so it wouldn't make a sound. Taking the steps towards the bed, cautiously. Feeling her heart pound. There was only one person in the bed. Clearly sleeping. Then she wondered what to do. She was hungry. She put the candle on and saw a fruit bowl on the table. She took an apple and started to chew.

 

“Morning.”, Monroe said with drowsy, low voice, turning to see her better.

Charlie could see that he didn't have a shirt, his blanket covering the lower half of him. He was lean and wiry muscled. His shoulders wide. He put his hands under his head. Some hair in his armpits. A few days stubble on his face. Blue eyes, watching her every move.

 

“Hi. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.”

Charlie dug in deeper in to the apple.

 

“What are you doing here?”, Monroe asked.

“I came to see you.”

 

Monroe got up. Charlie wasn't sure where to put her eyes. She didn't know if he slept without clothes or not. She couldn't look away either so she took a peek. At least he had some kind of pants on. Charlie felt butterflies in her stomach but she continued eating.

 

He walked at her, stopping close to her. “I'm gonna go and refresh myself. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

When he was out of the room Charlie swallowed, then she continued eating her apple.

 

When he came back, she was sitting in the chair, finishing her fruit. Monroe took an apple too and went for his bed, eating it there.

“Come here. If that's why you're here for?”, he asked.

Charlie put the remnants of the apple to the table. She wasn't sure what to do. She just stood there. Monroe got up and he left his apple core on the table. Then he walked behind Charlie. She closed her eyes, feeling him barely touch her. His warmth radiating from his body to her back.

“You can leave anytime.”, he said.

Charlie felt his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her neck. He smelled like the apple he had just eaten. Underneath his own, unique scent, of a man and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe Aloe Vera, she thought.

 

Monroe walked around her slowly, ending in front of her. He looked her in the eye. Charlie looked back. When he slowly reached for her, she couldn't stop looking at his hands.

What was he going to do?

She felt him slowly slide the morning gown down with his fingertips, letting them slightly touch the skin on her shoulders all the way. She felt weird, like electricity flowing through his fingers to her skin. She watched his right hand and then the dropping cloth. Then she returned her gaze to Monroe's eyes. He watched her curiously.

Charlie didn't know what to do. She felt like she should be running away and fast. Yet the same time, she felt the same curiosity that Monroe had in his eyes.

What would it feel like to touch him? Would it be a bad decision?

Those feelings were tearing her apart.

 

Suddenly Monroe dropped his intense gaze, turned away and let her be. Charlie flickered her eyes. The next thing she saw, Monroe was just lying down on his bed.

She hesitated. But eventually took some steps slowly, towards the bed. She moved slowly, then she sat on the side of the bed.

 

Charlie felt Monroe's weight shift, moving the mattress under them. She was completely still, her body tense. She turned her head a bit to see him from the corner of her eye.

Charlie was ready to fight if Monroe would happen to be violent in his bed too.

 

“Don't be afraid, Charlotte. I'm not going to hurt you.”, Monroe whispered softly.

Not far from her. She swallowed.

Was she really going to do this?

 

Charlie tried to remember something useful. All she could think about was the farm boys she had shooed. Monroe was not a young farm boy, shyly trying to steal a kiss from her, with a slobber mouth. He was a grown man.

Then there was Nate. Nothing useful there either.

 

Charlie was lost in her thoughts when a new sensation suddenly pulled her out. Monroe had been getting closer and he planted his hot mouth on her cold shoulder. She inhaled sharply. She could feel him kiss her shoulder again, his few days old stubble scraping her skin. She shivered, closing her eyes. No one had ever done this to her before and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.

 

When he moved to her sensitive neck, she gasped. His touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. She swallowed hard, trying not to leave a sound. She had planned before that she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She just didn't know at the time how hard it was going to keep that promise.

 

His hot mouth on her skin and that damn stubble making her waver with that decision.

She had not been prepared for that she might actually enjoy their encounter. For the unnatural reasons she was doing it, she hadn't come to think of that. She had imagined him being selfish and evil.

 

That evil was now pulling her to the bed and she didn't resist. Although her thoughts of the situation remained still conflicting, she wasn't going to quit. If he had something in mind that felt anything like those kisses on her neck, she was willing to try it.

Part of her hated him for waking those feelings. She had always thought that those were the things she would explore with her beloved partner. Not with her worst enemy.

 

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Monroe pulled Charlie into the bed. He wondered why she didn't resist. He felt something, like a scar tissue inside her wrist. He rotated her arm to see it. It was the Monroe Militia insignia. Burned on to her skin. It was still reddish so it was fresh. He felt sudden anger. Whoever had done that to her, deserved to die. Painfully. Knowing the Mathesons, maybe they had already died.

Charlie had her eyes on him. Monroe was still holding her arm. "Where did this come from?"

"I was saving someone from your boot camp."

Monroe brushed the mark with his fingertips. "I take it this was involuntary."

"I didn't have a choice."

He pressed a kiss on her scar. Then he let her hand down.

He just laid there, Charlie next to him. He felt her gaze on him again. He looked her back. He couldn't resist touching her. He saw her bracelet and slid his fingers over it. Watching her reaction. Their gazes locked. Monroe felt breathless. Why was this so important to him? Why he let her be in charge? Why he even cared of what had happened to her?

He was now completely sure he was going out of his mind.

"You know, you can always leave.", he said, breaking the silence.

"I'm fine.", she said firmly.

He rolled on his side, watching her. He wasn't sure did she even believe her own words. The urge to touch her was growing steady but he tried to ignore that. He wasn't sure if that was what she wanted. He didn't even know where that came from. He had had a lot of women. Why would he waste his time to go after the one who wasn't interested? It was not his style.

He reached for her slowly. It excited him even more. He felt the blood pump in his veins. Why was she so different? How did she made him feel this way, like no one else could? He took a strand of her hair and smelled it. Her scent of a woman, soap and something flowery, perhaps lavender. Suddenly it made his pants feel too full.

"You are beautiful."

Charlie snorted. "I can take any crap but don't lie to me."

"Did you come here to kill me?"

When Charlie didn't answer his delusions got the best of him and he straddled her. "Give it to me."

"Wait." She took something from her clothes.

Monroe took it from her hand. It was a nail file. He burst into a laughter. "You were going to kill me with  _this_?"

"I was not going to kill you. I just needed a backup plan."

Charlie wondered how long Monroe was going to sit on her. She couldn't move and it was getting uncomfortable under his weight. She played with the thought of fighting him. But she knew that he would probably win. Their gazes locked. He seemed curious of her. She felt his warm muscles through his pants, while his ass and thighs were against her loins.

"I tend to stand behind my decisions.", she said to fill the silence.

"Even when they are foolish?", he asked.

"I keep my word."

She watched the look on his features turn darker.

"Let's face it. You don't even want me."

Monroe looked her, his gaze intense. She felt it deep inside her. She wasn't sure should she try to run or stay and see what would happen. Then she saw him lean in, probably for a kiss. She turned her head away. Why pretend when there was no feelings involved?

She felt the sudden release when he got up and let her be.

"The door is there.", Monroe said.

"I'm not gonna leave."

"Whatever suits you."

"Tell me this. Do you think about Jason when you're doing it?", he asked.

"What the hell!?"

"Neville told me about you two. That you have… some kind of relations with his son. Have you already done it? Or is it just some hot dream?", Monroe smirked.

"None of your business."

"Do you think of him when you touch yourself?"

"I've had enough of this.", Charlie said and tried to get up.

She felt Monroe's grip tight on her wrist and she stopped to avoid injury. "Don't you wanna hear the rest of the story?", he asked his voice a bit husky.

Charlie closed her eyes for a moment. Why did she react to him at all? She hated him. It was so wrong. She felt her breathing getting somewhat heavier. Her pulse rising a bit. She hoped that Monroe wouldn't notice.

"Charlotte… I'm not gonna hurt you."

His voice now soft, almost purring. She felt his grip on her wrist loosen, finally disappearing completely. Oh damn how she hated that name but the way Monroe said it… it made her knees soft.

He kissed her neck just below her ear. His soft, hot lips making her shiver. His stubble scraping her sensitive skin, every now and then. She closed her eyes, feeling absorbed into her dormant desire, which was now slowly waking up. Did she like it or not, it was inevitable like the waves rolling on the sea.

Charlie felt something brush over her breast, feather-like. She swallowed, feeling like an electric jolt in her system. She felt her nipples harden. When she didn't object, Monroe did it again, now more boldly. He rolled one in his fingers. Her breathing changed. She felt how he turned her on, the warmth inside her. He did the same to her other breast. Charlie couldn't hold back a sigh, feeling the secret place between her legs getting slowly wet.

She had decided earlier that she would never moan for him. But it proved to be harder to keep that promise to herself.

At some point Charlie noticed that she was on her back on the bed and Monroe had managed to crawl closer to her.

"Do you think of him when you do this..."

She heard his voice now close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine, the warm air tingling her skin when he whispered, his voice a bit thicker with lust.

Charlie tried to leave again when the caresses stopped.

"Not so fast."

She stopped merely by hearing the commanding tone in his voice. She wasn't sure what to do and she didn't want to anger Monroe so she stayed, her upper body already going for the door. She was leaning to her elbows, as she would have a hard time to decide what to do. Her thoughts of escape finally disintegrated when she felt his warm hand sliding on her skin. She breathed deep and closed her eyes. It was so wrong on so many levels, but she couldn't change the way her body reacted to him. She felt his hand snaking under her panties.

"I bet you do think of him when you do this… You think of him until you come."

Charlie couldn't help but see Jason in her mind. And yes, Monroe was right but she would never admit that to him. The images of Jason mixing with Monroe's enticing voice and his gentle touch was weird but arousing. She guessed it was his intention. He was more dangerous than she thought he was. Able of manipulating people. Capable of manipulating her.

She lost all coherent thought when Monroe found what he was looking for. He put this hot mouth on her breast, sucking her nipple through the cloth of her nightgown. He caused her breathing escalate to panting, her heart beat rise fast. She felt extreme pleasure, making the one she could cause to herself a pale comparison. That pleasure even multiplying when she got closer to her climax.

She felt him now closer to herself, his warm body next to hers. His closeness was intoxicating, among the things he was doing to her. He was everywhere, she could feel him even her eyes closed.

Monroe didn't stop until she breathed hard, stifling a cry when she came, hard.

She lied there, trying to calm her breath.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to use you.", Monroe said.

He got up. "I will leave you alone."

Monroe didn't wait for her to answer. Charlie saw him take some clothes. She watched his back when he left the door. Not sure was she missing him or hating him even more.

 

* * *

 

Monroe was in a meeting with his Militia men. There was his most important men talking about the operations, how were it's missions going on and what was to be done with them. A strategist, who had the newest information from the field, thanks to scouts and messengers. Jeremy Baker and other who worked close to him. Even Neville was there today.

Monroe had a hard time listening their blabbering on and on about some things he could not give shit about today. He poured himself a shot of whiskey from the side table. The lunch he had eaten alone quickly before the meeting, had finally starting to settle in and was making him a bit tired.

He sat down, to the table. Looking at the men. The strategist was in the middle of explaining them something but then he dropped something. He stopped completely, his face red and he swallowed nervously. Monroe felt he was in a weird mood. He wasn't going to punish him for that. "Continue.", he said and lifted his glass.

The men eased immediately and Monroe had the time to get absorbed into his thoughts. He took a swig from his glass. Feeling the whiskey burning in his throat and later, the nice relaxing feeling of getting high from the alcohol. Then he got lost in what had happened in the morning.

He remembered her silky smooth skin. They way she smelled, of a woman, lavender and life. What they had talked about. When he had straddled her, she had just stared at him with her blazing blue eyes.

He had told her she could leave if she wanted to. She didn't. When she changed her mind, he was tired of her ambivalence and he forced her to stay. He had tried to get her in the mood. Charlie had been very cautious and apparently she had decided not to show any sign of liking the situation, even when he tried his best to get any reaction out of her. It was the Matheson stubbornness, he guessed.

After what he did to her, her eyes became hooded. Her breathing harder, sudden gasps when he had tried to make her give him something. A moan, a whimper, anything. He had been annoyed that she wouldn't give him that. He didn't need to take women. He got them because they liked him. Or they liked the power he had. Or his good looks. Whatever. He didn't give a fuck for the reason.

But Charlie was different. She wasn't afraid of him. She didn't suck up to him. She was being herself. She was like a refreshing wind in his mad, lonely crusade after Miles left.

He knew it was wrong, but he was the General of the Militia.  _The_  Sebastian Monroe. And he could do whatever the hell he wanted to. He was everything, paranoid, megalomaniac, a coldblooded killer. A machine for this lonely road, taking care of his people.

The only thing which made him realize that she wanted him, was the way her body reacted to him. He had slowly touched her everywhere, admiring her silky smooth skin, trying to get her out of her clothes without success. She was lying next to him with her nightgown on. He had reached for her and slid his hand under the waist band of her panties, between her legs. He had been surprised to find out that she was more than ready. She had been completely wet.

When he tried to make her come, he was surprised that she apparently did do that. It made him only want her more. His lust growing, making him harder in his pants. He knew that Charlotte hated him so he wasn't going to make her do anything she didn't probably want to. Although his need for her was unbearable after he realized that she came.

Monroe tried to shake off those thoughts. He realized that someone was talking to him. He was sitting on his place, the table hiding his rock hard erection. "Yeah, that sounds great."

The men looking at him strangely. Jeremy being the worst. Apparently it was the wrong answer. He sighed. This was going to be a long meeting.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy came to his office after the gathering.

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

Bass was sitting at his desk, his hand circling the almost empty whiskey glass. "Yes."

"What the hell was that? We are only few days away from the border war with Georgia and you say it sounds  _great?_ "

Monroe rubbed his eyes. He couldn't tell him what was really going on. "I just have a lot on my mind now."

"Does it involve the young Miss Matheson?"

Monroe closed his eyes, feeling his anger for the first time on that day. "It's not what you think it is."

"People talk. Some have noticed that you treat her in a special way."

Monroe closed his eyes again. "I needed her to co-operate with me."

"What kind of co-op was that?"

"How come it's your business now what I do?", Monroe lashed out.

"When it affects our work, then it is."

"You're dismissed.", Monroe said, barely containing his rage.

Jeremy looked at him, a bit worried and then he left, closing the doors behind him. Monroe cursed under his breath. He got up and his rage now surfacing he wiped all the stuff down to the floor from his desk, with one move. Loving the sound of the glass shattering to the floor. He would have eagerly crushed Jeremy's wind pipe, if he could. Until he would have stopped talking. Forever.

Monroe walked like a caged animal, nervously back and forth. The damn Matheson clan always had the way of crawling under his skin. It was like fucking a curse. He swore aloud.

Now a bit calmer, Monroe sat down by his empty table. He gazed his whiskey decanter and the unused glass beside it on the side table. He sighed deep and knew that it wasn't the answer to his problems.

He rushed across his office, slamming the doors open so hard that the old hinges squeaked in protest. Half running through his hallway he left a pack of guards watching him go, wondering what was it this time. He didn't care. The only pressing thing in his mind was where he would find Charlotte.

"Miss Matheson still in her quarters?", Monroe asked from the guards.

"Yes, sir."

Monroe didn't knock, he just barged into the room. Charlie was there, looking surprised. He closed the doors.

"What are you doing here?", she asked, a bit worried.

He had acted on impulse so he hadn't planned what he would actually say to her. "Don't go."

"What? You promised me.", she said, the look on her face and her voice revealing how she thought he would betray her, just like that.

"Just for a few hours."

"Why?"

Monroe tried to find the right words. He wasn't sure of that even himself, why it was so important for him to have her just for a bit longer. He had been alone for four fucking years after Miles left. He didn't need anyone.

"Because I..."

"Yeah?", Charlie asked. When he didn't continue, she happily obliged. "Because you like to play with people's minds until they are just as crazy as you are?"

"No.", Monroe said, the familiar rage rising again.

He couldn't speak about it. It would have sounded too true, too much of something he didn't want to think of nor want to feel. It would have made him vulnerable. It wasn't an option.

Charlie walked slowly close to him. He watched her, beauty with her head straight, no fear in her eyes. Swallowing on the view of her front, the way her hips swayed. She made his pants feel tighter.

"What is it then?", her voice soft, as she would have sensed his internal turmoil.

Monroe walked the last step separating them and gazed Charlie's eyes. He reached for her, placing her hair behind her ear. His fingertips sliding on her smooth skin. She stood still. He kissed her.

Monroe felt the last of his anger just melt away and his need to have her, rising again.

Charlie realized what he wanted. She would have lied if she would have said that she didn't want him. After the morning she had been thinking about him. She still hated him but there was now something else too. Maybe it was lust. Or perhaps she was on that phase on her cycle. Whatever it was, she could feel it.

When Monroe kissed her, she felt it through her body. It was making her weak on her knees. Her body starting to warm up. Feeling his touch everywhere, inside her and in her hardening nipples.

This time it was different. She knew a little what to expect and that he would make her feel good. Something else was off. It seemed like Monroe was desperate to be with her. She wondered what on Earth had caused him to feel that way.

 

* * *

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Monroe couldn't believe what the hell he was doing. If he wanted to fuck someone, he had that arranged. The Militia had a lot of women in that occupation, to keep the men good spirited and concentrated on the mission at hand. He had everything he wanted. What he would do with someone like Charlie? She was beautiful in her own way but she didn't exactly embraced her feminine side. She was too young for him as well. Why would he still try and be with her?

 

Yet there was something about her that made his world turn upside down. She was wild, had a tricky mind of her own and she wasn't stupid. Most of all, she was a fighter. She knew how to hunt and how to trace. He admired her for that. Still, they were from different worlds. Maybe his affection for her had something to do with the fact that she reminded him of Miles. She was eerily like him sometimes. It made him to want her. More than it was healthy. He was developing an obsession for her. The only way to make it stop was to have her.

 

Whilst having everything, soon even the power in his hands to move the war machines, somehow he felt lonelier than ever. He had slowly succumbed into that in those four years since Miles left.

Miles had tried to kill him that night, but he couldn't. So instead he left. Monroe didn't say it aloud but he missed him. His delusions and paranoia starting to take root in his mind, he had started to have people killed even if he only suspected them of being against him.

 

How many times he had had his silvery gun against his own head, feeling the coolness of the metallic muzzle against his temple? Watching his tears fall into the glass of expensive vintage whiskey. He didn't remember.

A tempting promise of release, of forgetting all the pain right there, right now, at his hands. Again, tears in his eyes, when he remembered how he lost his family in the car crash and years later his beloved Shelly, with their stillborn baby. It would have been so easy just to pull the trigger. The ultimate control over his own destiny. But at the final moment he couldn't. Just like Miles didn't have the guts to kill him.

He was curious to see to see how things would unfold. He needed to get more power. He wanted to get his revenge and kill all who were against him or the Militia. 

 

He wanted to find something, anything to save himself. Charlie provided him a distraction and closeness, although it wasn't real. They weren't lovers. She was only a victim of the circumstances. He didn't want to think about that. It was too much for him. He didn't need it to be real, he just needed something. Anything.

 

He was alone, empty and on the brink of loosing his mind and he grabbed whatever straws he could find as he fervently walked to the room where Charlie was getting ready for her release. He was sure she could help him and she had. It was like she had sensed his trouble and touched him.

Then he had kissed her.

 

* * *

 

 

Charlie just stood there after their kiss. Monroe backed a bit. She saw a side of him she had never seen before. She couldn't take her eyes off on him.

“I need you.”, he whispered, his eyes glazed.

“How come?”

“I don't know… maybe we could spend some time together before you leave.”

Charlie felt relieved. He was still going to let her go. Not keeping her here indefinitely.

She watched him take the steps parting them. This time he didn't lift his gaze higher than her hand. He touched her lightly with his fingertips. She didn't pull her hand away. He seemed different this time. Something had changed. He seemed genuinely searching for connection with her.

 

Monroe touched her again. He moved into her personal space. His head close to hers, his chest almost touching her. She heard him breathing in. It was a deep one. When he exhaled, she felt the warm air tingle her skin on her neck. She closed her eyes.

“Lavender? Is it your favorite”, he whispered his mouth close to her ear.

“Why is that?”

“I asked them to bring you anything you wanted.”, he said his voice a bit husky.

 

She was still thinking the deep loneliness she had seen in his eyes just a moment ago. How could anyone in his position even be so lonely? It played some chord in her soul she didn't know that existed.

 

Charlie couldn't help but feel the effect of his closeness in her body. She was like in a trance. His low voice delighting her in a way she didn't understand. She wondered what he was going to do. If it was anything like their last encounter, she wasn't sure if she could resist him.

 

He pulled her into an embrace. She wasn't sure about anything but the fact that she hated him and her body felt otherwise. She breathed easier, deeper. Hearing him do the same made her wonder what did he see in her. She was just a girl from Sylvania Estates.

 

She felt him kiss her neck. She closed her eyes for the sensation, enjoying the feeling of his hot lips caressing her skin. She suddenly needed more air, it caused her open her mouth. When he pulled back to look at her, she left a sigh. It was small but audible. Monroe fixed his blue haunted eyes on her, his mouth a bit open in surprise. He stared at her for a moment, until he grabbed her and kissed her, more boldly than before.

 

She had no problem staying in sync with him. It was like they had always kissed. She felt him ignite her need. The warm feeling moving from through her. She didn't know why but Monroe had the way of making her aroused. For a fast fleeing moment she thought if the hours kissing with Jason had prepared her for this. She felt a sound emanating from her throat when the fire reached her breasts, her lower abdomen and the place between her legs. She heard his low grunt as an answer to her.

 

When they stopped, she let her breathing to calm down. She inhaled his scent, still holding on to him, like he did to her. The fresh sweat, mixing with the laundry detergent and his unique scent of a man filled her nostrils.

Monroe pulled away just enough, to reach the buttons on his collar, letting them loose.

She watched the metallic M-signs on his collar and wondered how the hell they had come to this point. Still feeling the remains of his caresses in her body, like a hot wave, slowly moving inside her.

 

Monroe removed his black jacket and threw it on a chair. Then he slowly walked to her. She couldn't stop looking into his eyes, which were darkened with lust. His gaze piercing as always. She let her fingertips lightly brush over his neck, where the skin was now bare. He breathed harder, his mouth a bit open, watching her every move. Like he had thrived on her touch. He unbuttoned some more of his black dress shirt. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his chest.

She found herself aiding him, opening his shirt, her fingertips tracing the line of his collar bone. She could hear his breathing get heavier. She looked at him. His eyes were closed. But as if he had sensed that she looked at him, she saw his eyes open and focusing.

 

Somehow she was on a bed, again. With Monroe.

He lifted her tank top, kissing the skin that was exposing as he moved up. She breathed harder, hearing him do the same. The sensation causing her to hit her head back to the bed, her eyes hooded. His hot, wet mouth, sometimes his tongue, sliding on her stomach. She wondered where else it might go. That thought made her hot, waiting, expecting what was coming next. It aroused her as well.

 

Monroe didn't stop at her bra, instead he took his time around her chest. Slowly lifting her top, until getting it completely off, with a little assistance from her. She felt her own lust now burning stronger. She enjoyed his touch.

 

He abruptly stopped and got up, hovering over her. His eyes didn't now show any emotion. He just gazed at her. She had no idea what he was up to. He got up from the bed.

Charlie felt suddenly cold and ridiculous, lying there half naked, her hands over her breasts when Monroe walked towards a table in the room.

“If this is one of your stupid games...”

“Wait.”, he said, his back to her.

 

She lifted her gaze to him when he turned and was approaching the bed again, his shirt open, revealing a part of his toned body. The black pants still on. He had a single red rose in his hand.

Charlie wasn't sure what the hell that meant. She squinted her eyes.

 

“Hands off.”, he said, straddling her. She remembered the last time he did that.

“You'd better tell me...”, she started to protest but a sudden sensation made her lose her thoughts.

He was sliding the rose over her nipples. The cold petals were smooth, soft and causing her to sigh in surprise. He did the same to her both breasts. She was just speechless. The cool touch of the flower making her nipples harden. Just about when she was going to continue her rant, he bended over and sucked one of her nipples into his searing hot mouth. She gasped. The coldness turning into heat made the sensation even stronger. She didn't even know that kind of feeling existed.

He repeated the same thing on the other one. Her gasping turning into low moans.

 

Charlie breathed heavier. If this was what was coming, how would she escape? When she couldn't even trust her own feet know. They were all mushy now. The feeling of being slowly seduced, the pleasure he was giving her, weighing heavily in her body. Did she want this? Or was she just curious? Either way, she wasn't sure about anything anymore.

 

Monroe moved up, over her. She looked into his eyes. Their breathing heavy, almost in the same rhythm. He kissed her. Charlie closed her eyes, feeling the softness of his lips, moving against hers. His stubble grazing her sensitive skin every now and then. The kiss was slow and agonizingly pleasureful. Making her want him even more.

 

Their tongues dancing, she noticed she liked to lick his. She put her hand behind his head, her fingers sinking deep into his soft, dark curls, all the way to his neck. His scent felt now even stronger, his skin feeling hotter than hers. She loved how he felt on her, pressing himself gently against her body. She felt his hardness trough his pants, against her stomach when he moved.

 

When Monroe gave her room and backed away, probably to get out from his clothing or putting the rose back (she didn't care which one), Charlie got up. She was crouching as she was removing her boots. She felt him behind her when she got up. He pulled her close, his hand over her chest and the other putting the hair that had fallen to her face, back behind her ear.

 

She heard him breathe deep. Long inhale, then exhale which made her feel even more aroused.

“Your scent…it drives me crazy.”, his voice next to her ear, a low purr.

Charlie closed her eyes. She felt him fondling her breasts as his other hand reached for the button of her jeans. She could feel the moisture start to rise between her legs, when the pleasure from her breasts hit her brain and traveled into her pants.

 

He used his both hands to open her pants. His other hand returned to tease her nipples as his other hand snaked under her panties. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she felt him start to draw lazy circles around her clit. She leaned into him, feeling her knees go weak.

He kissed her neck, leaving warm trails of his mouth on her skin. It felt so good she sighed deep, closing her eyes.

 

When he found just the correct spot, by her moans and whimpers, she felt the same than the last time. So much pleasure that in consumed her, left her hot and wanting for more. He gave her some time to get into her lust filled haze. She was dripping wet when he stopped.

She was annoyed but not for a long time. Monroe took her to the bed, pulled his shirt and his pants off, showing off his naked body. She let him take her jeans off, by pulling from the legs of her pants. She had her old white panties under. Well, not white anymore, after the long hours of walking through the country and having only the cold water from the stream to get them cleaned.

He didn't care as he pulled them off as well.

 

Charlie was under him, skin against skin. It was what her body wanted, more closeness. But what did she want? She knew she was crazy, by letting him do this to her. But she couldn't discard the feeling she had around him.. After the weeks with him she felt strong pull towards him. She had found that it was there for him. The lust, the need. Even some kind of emotions, no matter how twisted the situation was. Normally she would have not felt that way for him.

He had the way to get what he needed from people, them giving it to him voluntarily. He had that effect on her too. She knew he was probably doing this to every woman but part of her wished that she was special to him. Maybe a he cared for her?

 

He kissed her again, letting some of his weight on her as he took his place between her legs. She wasn't sure about that but feeling his kiss made her sink into the abyss of her lust again. Her body wanted to meet his like this. It felt so new and different to be naked, against someone, who was a man and clearly wanting her.

“Have you slept with Jason?”, he asked suddenly.

She felt her irritation rise. “Not your business.”

“Have you been with anyone?”

She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of knowing that she didn't have a lot of experience with men. She had spent most of her youth in the small village, safe and sheltered from the world beyond. She mumbled something incoherent.

 

He kissed her again, then lowered himself to kiss her breasts. She fell into the deep cloud of want. Then she felt his hand over her swollen, wet sex. She couldn't stop the small moans when he was teasing her clit. All of a sudden, she felt one of his fingers sliding inside her. Then another. It felt weird at first. Like she was full. She opened her eyes, just to see him stare back. The fucking bastard probably knew. She didn't make a sound because it was so weird.

 

She closed her eyes.

“It's okay.”, he said.

He did something there and she felt different. It felt good, in a new way. She felt her breathing harden and she was overflowing with her juices. She gasped her eyes half open, seeing nothing. Eliciting deep moans from her throat as the pleasure took over.

She could hear his harsh breathing when he took his fingers out from her. She relaxed against the bed, breathing. He climbed over her, this time he was more hasty. She opened her eyes just to see him closing in on a kiss. She let him do that. He let her feel his hardened cock, when he pressed her against the mattress with his weight. “Want this?”, he asked, his voice low.

After everything, she couldn't say no. She wanted him, badly. Every inch of her skin, touching his, making her wanting more. Him feeling so hot on her. She wanted to be closer. The need was making her decision easy. She nodded, it was only a small movement but he saw it.

She wasn't sure where the hell she had put herself into, but she had no time to think about that when she felt him entering her slowly. She was surprised how easy it was. He gave her time to adjust to him.

 

When he started to move, she felt it was completely different than some fingers inside her. He filled her again and again, every time he moved. It started to feel so good she had never felt anything like that. The moans started to come out from her mouth on their own, her body trying to give him a better access, to get some more of this intoxicating pleasure. He grunted and picked up the speed.

She could only writhe in pleasure as he took her. He searched for her, for a kiss. It was just adding her enjoyment, the kiss being passionate. Her need now burning, she felt lost into it. Lost into him.

He pushed stronger, deeper for awhile. Then he grunted. She saw the look on his face as he came. She wasn't close to her own but it didn't matter. He lied on her, his weight partially on his elbows.

 

What the hell had she done? She could never talk about this to anyone. They would not understand. She couldn't help but still feel something for him. He kissed her quickly and got off on her. Already cleaning himself while she lied on the bed. She was not caring that he would see her naked if he would look. She decided she would stay there for awhile. She didn't have the need to move right now. Her body still having some remaining from their meeting, the afterglow. The softness of the bed was making her slumber.

 

She opened her eyes to see Monroe look straight into her eyes, bended over her. He was fully clothed, dressed in black. The collar back on it's place, the metallic M's on the both sides of his neck. It was like a sign that her stupid aberration had ended.

“You might wanna dress up before you leave.”

There was a small smile playing in the corner of his mouth. She got up, covering her breasts.

There was something flowing out of her and she didn't want her jeans to get wet. She took the cloth he was offering without asking and tucked it into her panties as she pulled them up. She pulled her jeans up, fastening the button. Then she put her bra on and then her top. Her socks and then the boots.

“Forgetting something?”, he asked.

“What?”

His fingers went into his jeans. She had forgotten the zipper. His hand pressed against crotch. She sighed her eyes closed. When he stopped, she pulled the zipper up. She realized that he had the annoying, smug smile over his face. She hated that arrogant son of a bitch.

 

Monroe seemed even more amused as he saw her irritation.

“These are the keys to the cell where your family is.”, he said as he put them in her hand.

“Thank you.”

“Make it look like you escaped. I've told the guards to go easy on you. Rachel...”

“I know.”

“I'll get you to where they are held.”

She left with Monroe.

 

* * *

 

Charlie wandered at the penitentiary, searching for the right cell. She knew her mother. She would doubt her if things were too easy. She tried to appear as she was actually on the run. Looking a bit scared and constantly watching over her shoulder, as she was opening their cell. She didn't know where Monroe was anymore. He had left her alone in the beginning of the hallway. She didn't care about that now, when she had her family. She almost blushed hearing Rachel's voice, knowing what she had done, just a moment ago.

 

“Charlie! Are you okay? How did you get out?”

“There was a fight. I took out a young guard. Found some keys.”, she lied quickly and looked the other way.

“I have some matters to take care of. You go.”, Rachel said.

 

Charlie didn't argue with her mother. She left with Danny. Being away from Rachel for now meant that she wouldn't be under her mother's heavy gaze, wondering what the hell had really happened.

 

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel was a bit confused of her sudden freedom. She had been a prisoner for so long, that she had forgotten her life before that. She felt this crazy need to be safe in the apartment she had spent so many years in. The doors locked all the time. No access to the outside world. Unless Monroe had something in his mind and tried to get some information out of her. Or to share his damn delusions about expanding his Militia to cover the old U.S. or even the whole continent. Or just simply to play games with her mind. It was rare, but sometimes at night, Monroe came to her, having a pity party with himself, an opened whiskey bottle in his hand. Two glasses on the other hand.

 

That place was her safety, as it was the place for her slowly forming insanity and ongoing suffering. She tried to fight the urge to go back there. She knew she was a mess. So she tried to talk to herself. “You’ve got this.”

Her own voice sounded strange to her. The worst was that she didn’t even believe her own words.

 

She stopped at a shady corner, closing her eyes. Completely abandoning the plans of vengeance for Monroe. It was hard, after all those years. She had kept that promise for herself for such a long time. But she knew that Monroe would overpower her immediately with his men and just capture her again.

The situation changing again, that wasn’t an option. She had her dear children back at last.

Charlie and Danny. Her eyes watered. She had missed years from their childhood. Remembering them now, as adults, made her happy. They had made it. Survived to this day, unscathed. A smile crept on her face.

She needed to do something else. She remembered the machine. If she couldn’t kill Monroe or make him pay for what he had done, she could sabotage his plans of overtaking the whole continent. She concentrated on that. After reaching a stable mindset she opened her eyes. She started to move.

 

* * *

 

_Near the old power plant, close to the East gate_

 

Aaron was wondering why the hell he had thought he could ever survive this. Why he had left the safety of Sylvania Estates. Even teaching the annoying children was better than this. He closed his eyes and fell into his memories of the past. The time before the blackout. Everything had been so simple back then. Clean. Effortless. Clear.

He had been working for the Internet company. He was living his dream with his beautiful wife. There hadn’t been any violence, nor the survival fight of the fittest. No crazy Monroe and his army. And no bombs. Especially not bombs.

 

“You can do this, Aaron.”, Nora said and he opened his eyes to see her brown ones staring at him.

“What makes you think that? I’m just an IT-guy. Without computers, I’m nothing.”

“Well, today Mr. Nobody is going to blow up that wall there, when we need it.”, Nora said firmly.

“How do I know when to do that?”

“You’ll know, trust me.”, she said and looked at Miles, who had been waiting further away.

Aaron took the bag she was handing him, with shaky hands.

 

He was sure he would manage to blow himself up. Well, at least that would be a miserable end to his miserable life. He felt the sweat rise to his brow just by thinking about that he had some bombs in his bag and he was going to set them off later on.

He wondered if he would actually manage to sever himself, would there be a headstone on his grave? He imagined the engraving: ‘Loser’.”

“Enough of that.”, he told to himself.

He wiped his forehead with his already dirty sleeve. Now, his head was dry but covered in brown dust.

“Nice.”

He walked into a hideout and waited, trying not to get irritated by the fact that he was sweating like a pig again. It was the damn stress, he should try and think about something else.

“Like there are some freaking bombs in my bag?”

He gave up and sat down, setting the bag carefully down. He checked that he still had the matches with him. Then he just waited. He imagined that the sweat trickling now from his neck under his shirt, was actually water. He remembered the hot showers he used to have. It gave him peace.

 

He heard several gunshot fired inside the fences, probably from different guns. “This is the moment.”, he said and gathered the bombs. He moved in position to the gate and started to work.

“What the heck...”

The damn matches didn’t work. He ran to his backpack and took his fire steel.

 

* * *

 

Rachel didn't have to look far to find the machine. She was alone in the room, probably for the sound of gunshots fired she heard earlier from the distance.

There was no sign of Dr. Jaffe or anyone else. She would have killed him if she would have found him. There was no room for being sentimental when there were bigger problems at hand. She needed to be as ruthless as Monroe to win him in his own game. She had no problem with that after what she had been through, over the time of her imprisonment. She needed to put things right.

 

Just as she was going to sabotage the machine, she heard something. She turned fast on her heels.

“Well, well, what do I find?”, Strausser said with unfriendly gleam in his eyes.

Rachel felt cold steel in her stomach and she caught up her breath. She saw his muscles tense and she guessed what he was going to do. She was as ready as she could be, hyper aware of him, her heart pounding in her chest, the blood in her veins flooding into her muscles. She tried not to feel anything as it would make her more vulnerable.

 

Strausser attacked her. He was heavier and bulkier than Rachel and he seemed to have the upper hand for those properties. Rachel didn't manage to hit him, he averted her easily. He hit her hard, she could feel the dull pain on her face and see her vision filling with stars. The kinetic energy, with her loosing her balance, sent her sprawling down on the floor.

 

He mounted her, pressing her painfully against the cold, hard floor with his full weight.

Rachel felt disgusted as she felt him on herself, like he was cold and something slimy. He smelled bad and she remembered the pain by his scent. Strausser smiled at her, not pleasantly. She knew what he wanted. His evil eyes told her everything what she didn’t want to hear.

“Monroe wants me alive.”, she managed to groan.

“So do I. It's much more fun.”, Strausser said.

The tone of his voice, combined with the meaning of those words were rising some bile in her throat. She swallowed it down. She needed to do something. And fast.

 

* * *

 

_Inside the power plant_

 

Charlie sneaked out from the stairwell, a gun in her hand. She was afraid, but also angry. Her heart pounded in her chest and the sweat was making her shirt cling on to her skin. She stepped out carefully from the opening. She didn’t want to get shot. Danny followed closely behind her, still a bit dazed for everything that had happened. She felt a strong need to protect him. Her beloved little brother.

She extended a hand for her injured brother. They took shelter from one of the machines. Once they moved, someone started to shoot them. They ran.

A man tried to stop them. Charlie saw him grow a blade out of his chest. It was Miles’s.

 

* * *

 

 

_The assembly room_

 

Rachel wanted deliberately to remember every time Strausser tortured her. The sharp blades sliding into her bleeding flesh, burning like hell. Him causing her even more searing pain, turning the sharp knives in her flesh. His wicked smile while he enjoyed when she bled and suffered, her tears silently flowing for extreme pain. Him hitting, slicing, stinging her, with any object he could find in his pain inducing tool collection. Until she screamed. That was the point what he seemed to enjoy the most. It probably turned the sick bastard on.

 

* * *

 

Those memories gave her almost inhuman rage and cold blood, in which she grabbed what ever she could find, yet managing to smile at Strausser like she was suddenly up to what he had in mind. She felt something metallic behind her head and wrapped her fingers around it. She hit him with the metal rod as hard as she could and rolled away from him.

Many thoughts running simultaneously through her mind, like a flock of fleeing birds, hard to catch and barely touching her. Her mind on survival mode, constantly assessing the situation, remembering everything she needed to know, telling her what to do next.

She grabbed quickly one of Strausser’s knives, then straddled Strausser, pinning him under her. Then, before he had the time to hit her again, she imagined the location of his heart under the sternum and hit him by full force, the blade sinking easily into his chest like it was butter.

“You had this coming, you sick son of a bitch!”, she spat.

 

Strausser looked surprised. He was about to say something but then he didn’t. A small trail of blood appeared to the corner of his mouth. His eyes started to wander, like he had trouble focusing them.

Rachel watched how the life started to flow out of him, to somewhere she couldn't follow. Although a part of her wanted to. She had been in this prison for so many years that she had lost her mind, many times already. Only the rage, the promise of the sweet revenge and the coldness keeping her alive anymore.

She looked at the corpse, wondering if it was the same knife Strausser had used on her before, that was now buried into his chest. For a moment she thought about the irony of the situation. Then she left his still body on the floor and walked for the doorway.

A form emerged in the opening. A Monroe militia soldier, with a gun at his hand, ready to shoot. She stopped, cold steel forming inside her. She was still full of adrenaline for the recent fight. This was different. She was going to die. If she didn’t know what to do. She saw the man, trying to look past her. The look on his face confirmed that he saw the corpse on the floor.

She braced herself when he lifted his gun and pointed at her. She wanted to see his eyes, but they were just dead. He didn’t care about her life. She was a threat and had to be eliminated.

One shot boomed in the narrow hallway. To her surprise it was the soldier who fell, first to his knees, with amazed look on his face. Then the rest of him thumped on the floor.

Rachel felt her heart racing in her chest. She was trying to breathe. Another person came to the opening. This one was familiar, tall, dark hair a bit longer than she remembered. He lifted his gun barrel up when he saw her.

 

* * *

 

“Miles?”, she said, her voice barely audible.

“You okay?”, he asked.

“Yeah.”, she says. Then pause. “Miles? Is that really you?”

“Last time I checked.”, he said, not bothering to think why she asked that.

He didn’t have time for that with so many things going on and their lives at stake.

 

He looked inside the room where she came from. Strausser lied there, dead.

“Get outta here. The kids are there already.”

“Okay.”

He lead her closer to the exit.

 

* * *

 

Rachel swallowed. Her eyes watered. She wasn’t alone in this anymore. She didn’t need to go to her room. Miles was here. The first thing she did, she slapped him in the face. For leaving her to Monroe’s mercy.

 

They didn’t have the time to settle that. Monroe’s men came after them, Baker leading them.

“Miles, you are like a bad penny.”, Jeremy said with his men.

The bullets started to fly in the air, hitting the wall and the doorway. Rachel ran away with Miles, having a new found spike of energy since finding out that he was there.

 

* * *

 

Monroe found Miles, alone. He watched as Miles shot all his guards while Monroe jumped behind some cabinet, just in time. At first they pointed each other with guns. Miles couldn't shoot him this time either.

Monroe was ready to take him back. He wanted it so badly that he wanted to forget how he had tried to kill him four years ago.

His life would be perfect if Miles would come back. They would be happy again, together. This time they would never part. They would rule together the Militia. Just like the old days.

He saw him put his gun down. He felt a fragile hope. Maybe he would join him. He felt happy for the first time in four years. He would get Miles back and everything would be alright.

“I'm sorry.”

“What?”

“I'm sorry I didn't shoot you the first time.”

 

Monroe felt so hurt he thought he would fall to pieces on the damn floor. His eyes started to water for the pain. It was so strong it felt almost like physical. Miles was deliberately insulting him. He had tricked him into believing that he would join him. After he tried to comprehend that, he felt his old friend, the anger rising. If Miles wanted to die, he would take care of that. Monroe attacked him, consumed completely by his blinding rage.

 

The fight with Miles didn't last long. Jeremy Baker was onto them with his men.   
“Kill him.”, Monroe said to Baker.

Miles managed barely to escape from the open window, Baker’s men having their guns blaring and bullets hitting the window and the wall.

 

* * *

 

Monroe ordered the helicopter after the escaping group. He didn't care who Miles was with. He needed to die. No one would live after that kind of insult against him, the General Monroe. Not even Miles. He had no problem giving the pilot and the co-pilot their orders.

 

He watched from the high above, from the terrace at the side of the building, over the landscape. How they first stared at the copter. Then they started to flee. Running into the forest. He stared until he couldn't see them no more. The explosion in the distance after the short disappearance of the helicopter didn't ease him, as he had predicted. It just made him feel cold emptiness. He wiped his drying nose blood to his black sleeve, with the tears he had shed. He swore he would never let anyone hurt him like that again. Everyone trying that would be killed.

 

* * *

 

 

Miles, Nora, Rachel, Charlie, Danny, they all ran onto a hayfield. Then they stopped, hearing a weird sound. She guessed it was the machines. All shining like they had been recently cleaned. She wondered what Monroe would do with them? What they were capable of? Knowing Monroe, it wasn’t anything good.

 

The helicopter rising from the platform made Charlie think of Aaron's stories of the flying machines, beasts and other not so nice creatures. The rolls on the sides started to turn, vicious speed, making a low noise. Miles told them to run. She knew it had something to do with the rolling machines.

She realized they were machine guns when the bullets started to hit various places rapidly, close to them.

_They are shooting at us!_

She couldn’t believe it.

They ran like hell was closing in on them, but the bullets were swishing through the air just behind them. The copter followed them relentlessly, even when they ran through a small forest.

 

Miles led them to a yard of an old diner and in from the door.

 

The copters were ready to launch their missiles.

 

“Quickly, into the cold room!”, Miles yelled and they ran in. Not caring if their shoulders hit the door frames when trying to escape the immediate danger. Who needed shoulders if they were dead? Miles pulled the door close, tightly. They sought shelter behind the shelves. And then they just waited in the dark. Only a dim light coming from the small window of the door.

 

When they had to just wait in silence, she had time to think.

 

How could Monroe let the copter after them, after all that they had been going through? Charlie was deeply hurt by that. She didn't understand why would he do that.

Maybe Monroe had totally lost his mind. She had done everything that he wanted. And what did he do? He sent a helicopter to kill them all.

_That fucking bastard._

Without Miles and his quick thinking they would have been all dead now.

 

Suddenly something hit the building with a force that shook the whole place and simultaneously the light from the small window was bright, so hard she couldn’t look at it. She closed her eyes. The noise was unbearable so she put her hands over her ears. Crouched behind a shelf with the others she had nothing she could do, but to wait that the firestorm behind the door would stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like, leave a kudos.


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